The Key and The King
by FredWeasleysFutureWife
Summary: A collection of Spavid one-shots and drabbles
1. Bad Ideas

**Bad Ideas**

_Modern Day_**  
><strong>

David stared at his three friends with disbelief.

"Come on Davy!" Jack said. "It'll be fun!"

Spot and Racetrack nodded in agreement. David gave them a long hard look. There was no way that going in the back to do body shots with the strippers could be a good idea. It wasn't possible. But pretty girls… free shots… strippers. It was all pretty tempting.

"I don't know…" David said. Racetrack put his arm around David.

"If you come with us you can do a body shot off of Spot." Race said. Spot nodded and winked. David blushed crimson and nodded. The other boys gave hoots of approval and pulled Dave along with them into the back. David sighed.

"I swear, you three are like the Bermuda Triangle for morals."

* * *

><p><em>AN: The first of many Spavid drabbles and one shots. Note that these stories stand alone. I'm trying to write a new one every night so this story will be updated that often, hopefully. The stories will range from humor, to angst, to romance, to AU and god knows what else._


	2. Apologies

**Apologies**

_Modern Day_

"That wasn't funny." David said. Spot shook his head and sighed. David had been giving him the silent treatment the entire way home. Of course, he would only break it to reprimand Spot.

"You're reading too much into this, Davy. It was just supposed to be fun. I wasn't trying to—"

"Wasn't trying to what? Make me look like an idiot in front of all our friends?" Dave demanded.

"I wasn't trying to embarrass you! Okay?" Spot said frustrated. He pulled into the driveway of their house and turned off the car, but neither boy made a move to leave.

"That was private. Something between you and me. Something I told you because I trust you." David's voice had grown quiet. He didn't sound angry anymore, just hurt. And that killed Spot more than anything.

"I'm sorry." Spot said. "Honestly I am. I never meant for it to be something… bad or embarrassing or whatever. I just…" Spot blew air out through his nose and put his forehead on the steering-wheel. "Christ Davy. I'm shit at this apologizing thing. But I feel awful for hurting you. If I could take it back I would."

David nodded. Spot sat up looked at David. There was an intense moment of eye contact as the two sat silently for a moment before David broke the silence.

"Why'd you say it?"

"Because it was cute. Because I thought it was the most adorable thing you'd ever told me, and you're cute and I wanted everyone else to see how cute you were and be jealous cause you were mine."

David snaked his hand over towards Spot and clasped the other boy's fingers in his own.

"Hey." Dave said. "I love you."

Spot leaned over and placed a kiss on David's temple.

"Back at ya, kid." Spot said with a small smirk. "Let's go inside."

David didn't need to be told twice.


	3. The Beginning of the End

**The Beginning of the End**

_1899_

Jack and David were best friends. They did everything together. They sold together. They ate together. They played poker together. They drank together. They also fought together, and argued constantly. And they got annoyed with each other, and every once in a while they threw punches. Yes, Jack and David were best friends, but lately everyone was wondering why.

Jack and David wondered why, too.

They could all feel it coming for months. The tension slowly built up. Something big was going to happen. A fight or maybe even something bigger.

The end took place at a poker game. It was an alley way in Brooklyn, lit by a couple candles that Racetrack had nicked. None of the boys would risk getting caught gambling in either the Brooklyn Lodging House or the Manhattan; a stunt like that almost guaranteed you were sleeping on the streets for the next week until the superintendent took pity on you and let you back in. It was the usual crowd: David, Jack, Blink, Mush, Racetrack, with Spot playing their dealer.

Blink had brought out a half a bottle of whiskey that he must have been saving for a couple months at least. David's stomach dropped at the sight of it. They had never had alcohol involved with these games before, and David had a stinking suspicion that this would be no good.

He was right.

By the end of the night everyone had their fair share of whiskey, barring David who didn't want to go home to his mother drunk. But no one had had more than Jack. It was the last hand of the evening, and everyone else had already folded except for Jack and David.

"Put in your bets." Spot said.

"Ten cents." David said, putting the pennies down.

"Oh! Well aren't we just feeling courageous tonight?" Jack taunted good-naturedly, and David had to fight to keep it from getting under his skin. "I'm betting fifty."

Jack slammed two quarters down on the make-shift table.

"Show em, boys." Racetrack demanded, and Spot gave him a hard glare.

"Hey! I'm the dealer." But Spot gave a little smirk and the boys broke out into laughter. "Show em, boys."

David laid his cards on the table. A straight. Not bad, but Jack could easily beat it.

It was Jack's turn now. He put the cards on the table and David groaned. A royal flush. In _spades. _

"Haha! What about that!" Jack said loudly and drunkenly. "Looks like I get your measly ten cents." Jack scooped up the money on the table, laughing to himself as he counted it.

"Good game Jack." Mush said.

"Yeah, good game." Race said. "You actually beat me this time." Neither were good gamblers, and often lost to Blink or Mush, but it was a rare occasion when Jack actually beat out Racetrack.

Blink opened his mouth to say something too but was interrupted by the sound of Jack's fist hitting the wooden crate they used as their table.

"You shorted me." He stated bluntly.

"What?" David asked.

"You shorted me. You said ten cents. This is only nine."

"No. I put down ten." David pointed to each of his coins. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—" He paused when he realized he only counted nine. He blushed and tossed another penny. "Sorry Jack."

"Why'd you fucking short me, Davy? I thought we was friends." Jack demanded.

"We are. It was just a mistake." David insisted.

"Calm down a bit Jack. It was just a little misunderstanding." Blink said.

"No one asked you!" Jack yelled violently.

"I didn't try to short you." David insisted. "It was an accident, I'm sorry."

"No." Jack said. "You know what I think I think you's did this on purpose. You've tried to short me before, I should've known you'd do it again."

"When did I ever short you money?"

"On that day we started selling together. You kept trying to make it so you got more money! 'It's gotta be 50/50 Jack. We's gotta do it 50/50.'"

It was at this point that David noticed the slurring in Jack's voice. He must have been drunker than any of them realized.

"I wasn't trying to short you, Jack." David repeated, starting to feel like a broken record.

"YES YOU WERE!" Jack screamed. "YOU WERE, YOU FILTHY GREEDY KIKE!"

David felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Everything seemed to fall into a silent slow motion. He'd expected something like that from other people. The public school system of New York was filled with Anti-Semites. And he'd been called worse. He just never expected something like that from Jack. From his best friend.

It felt like minutes had passed but really it was only a couple seconds. The other boys stared at Jack in shock. Jack had never given the impression to anyone that he had a problem with David's religion. Blink, Mush and Race weren't quite sure what to do next.

But none of them had to decide, because before anyone could react, a loud smack filled the alley way. Spot punched Jack, sending the Manhattan leader sprawling backwards.

"Us Micks have always gotten along with the Jews." Spot spat. "You might want to want to watch what you say."

Spot put his arm around David and started to lead him out of the alley.

"Come on boys." Spot called to the others. Blink, Mush and Racetrack followed them, each casting one last look at Jack.

"Wait!" Jack called out to him. But the group didn't stop. "Fine! Fine! I don't need any of you anyway!"

But they were already out of earshot. Gone.

Jack was left alone.


	4. Of Wands and Spells

**Of Wands and Spells**

_Harry Potter Cross-over_

The Gryffindor common room was unusually empty for this time of night. Spot Conlon couldn't be more thankful for this fact.

He swished his wand into the right movement.

"Expecto Patronum." He said. But there was nothing but a small wisp of silvery smoke coming out of the end of his wand. He groaned into his palms.

"Need some help?" a voice said from behind him. Spot turned around.

"Davey." He sighed. "I don't need no help from nobody."

"You don't need any help from anybody." David corrected.

"Fuck you."

"Come on, let me help you."

"Why?"

"Because I know it, and if I help you, you'll know it, and then you'll be happy and I like seeing you happy."

"Fuck that." Spot stated.

"Fine. I'll just be going upstairs then." David said and made for the stairs.

"Wait!" Spot called out. David smirked and turned around. "What's the secret? How do I do it?"

David took a seat in front of the fire, close enough to spot that their legs were touching.

"Just think of something that makes you happy. Think of the thing that makes you the happiest."

Spot nodded and closed his eyes. _The thing that made him happiest in the world. _David's face filled his mind. His brown-red hair. Crystal blue eyes. Smooth White Skin. The way his nose wrinkled when he laughed. The feeling of David's lips on his own.

"Expecto Patronum." He said. He opened his eyes and the sight of a great hawk was in front of him. It flew around the room once before evaporating.

"I did it." Spot said, slightly amazed.

"Yeah, you did." David said with a large grin. Dave looked around the room and placed a quick kiss on Spot's lips. "I'm proud of you."

Spot smiled up at David.

"I'm proud of you." Spot said to David. He didn't have to explain.


	5. Not Enough

**Not Enough**

_Modern Day_

Spot sat at the kitchen table, staring at every knot and ding in the old wood. He felt disgustingly sober. Memories of the previous night reeled through his mind like a movie projector, making him feel sick and dizzy. He closed his eyes and tried in vain to get his headache to go away. He hadn't had a hangover this bad in years. He hadn't been this sober in years.

It took him a minute to realize that David was standing in the doorway. Spot may have looked like a mess right then, but David looked worse. His hair was greasy, his lips chapped, his back hunched over making him look like a rag doll that someone had thrown aside. But the worst of it all was his skin. Pale white, so that the black eye he was sporting was painfully visible. Seeing that hurt even more than the suitcase he spotted in David's hand.

The silence was tense. Spot felt he could cut it with a knife.

"I'm going to Jack's." David said. "I'll be back later in the week to get the rest of my stuff."

"You don't have to go." Spot said, trying to sound casual. But his voice came out rugged and scratchy, like he was about to cry. He wasn't of course. Spot Conlon never cried. Never.

"Yes I do. You know I do." David said quietly, tiredly.

"Will you come back?" Spot asked.

"I don't know."

Spot nodded. He understood.

"I love you." Spot said. David sighed and walked into the kitchen, and placed a small kiss on Spot's forehead.

"I know," He whispered in Spot's ear. "But I can't stay here anymore. Not until you get help."

Spot opened his mouth so say something else, but the words didn't come. He sat and watched as David picked up his suit case and walked out the front door. He stared at the door for a long time, as if staring at it would make David come back.

After a long while, Spot stood up and grabbed a bottle of vodka out of the fridge. He popped the cork and studied the bottle. A couple sips and everything would go away. Drink enough and he could forget David. Forget the pain David had caused him, and forget the pain he caused David.

Instead he sent the bottle flying. He watched as it sped towards the wall and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

Spot Conlon was tired of forgetting. He was tired of watching life go by. He was tired of hurting people. For the first time in twenty years, Spot Conlon did the unthinkable. He cried.


	6. Milkshakes

**Milkshakes**

_Modern Day_

Spot and David sat on the same side of the table, close enough that their thighs were touching. Tibby's Diner was always a fun place to go after their movie dates. It was also convenient as it was located right across the street from the movie theatre. The discounts that their friend Jack gave them was also nice.

Jack came around to their table.

"The usual?" he asked.

"The usual." David replied with a small smile. Jack rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen. In a few moments he returned with a large chocolate milkshake with two straws.

Jack watched as they talked softly to each other and smiled and laughed and occasionally blushed when their noses touched as they drank their milkshake. It was so ridiculously cliché that Jack couldn't help but find it cute.

He didn't know how David had found someone like Spot, but he was glad that he did. Not everyone could find someone who would do something so stupidly simple like sharing milkshakes. Jack looked at David and Spot and couldn't help but think that his two friends were the luckiest guys in the world.


	7. Hold Me While I'm Here

**Hold Me While I'm Here**

_Zombie-Apocalypse AU_

"Spot! SPOT!" David yelled. Spot sat up on his makeshift bed and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Wha…?" He asked not fully awake.

"You have to come quick! It's Jack… he's sick."

Spot was up instantly after that.

"Is it…" He trailed off. He didn't want the answer to that. Not really. Spot knew what a positive answer meant.

"I think so."

"Have you _done_ anything?" Spot demanded angrily. Over the past few years Dave had become their resident medic, knowing more about the medical field than anyone else in their group. He also had the most experience with the disease.

_Fucking zombies _Spot thought to himself. David kept insisting that the infected weren't zombies, but in essence that's what they were. Zombies, host to a deadly disease that killed who you were inside, killed any bit of humanity, and then used your body to spread its virus. He had seen the disease so many times.

Their group had been much bigger at the beginning, when all this disease stuff first started happening. But now it was just down to four of them. David, David's brother Les, Jack, and himself. Except from the sound of it they wouldn't have Jack much longer.

"I did all I could without getting myself exposed." Dave said. "I'm doing all I can."

Spot knew how much it hurt David to see Jack like this. David and Les had to sit and watch while their family succumb to the disease. David was only 12 then, and Les, six. Spot and Jack had found them and took them back to their group. That was almost four years ago. Instantly David bonded to Jack. They became best friends in an extremely short amount of time. That was something that Spot had always been a bit jealous of (for he could never quite deny how attractive he found David) but he never wanted it to end up like this.

Spot followed David to the small area of their compound that David had quarantined off for Jack. Jack looked awful. His skin was a sallow yellow color, and sagged unnaturally. His teeth looked like they were rotting. His hair was starting to fall out. He had seen the disease effect so many other people, but somehow it looked worse on Jack.

"How far along is he?" Spot asked.

"Still lucid." David barely breathed. "He knows what's going on." His voice sunk even lower. "What we have to do."

"If we don't do it now it's a danger to all of us." Spot said. David nodded.

"I can't… can you please?" David asked. Spot nodded solemnly and reached for his holster for his pistol (he couldn't believe that just a few short years ago, that same holster had been made for his sling shot.)

The end for Jack was quick. A single bullet to the brain at point blank level. Jack didn't even have time to react. A strange sense of vertigo came over him and he thought he was going to be sick. He had done it so many times. But this was different. Jack was the one constant for both of them. It had never occurred to them that Jack could get sick. It never occurred that they wouldn't always have Jack. It was a strange emptiness that neither boy could really quite grasp.

They stared at Jack's body together for a really long time. Hours passed and the sun came up.

"We probably shouldn't stay here." Spot said. "I mean even with—" He couldn't bring himself to say Jack's name "him gone, if any of those germs get into our blood stream we're goners."

David nodded.

"I'll go wake up Les."

The three boys walked out of camp slowly and cautiously, as if they couldn't figure out quite why they were leaving. Les walked between the two older boys, holding a small satchel with their ammo and a small handgun in his pocket (even if David didn't approve, Jack and Spot convinced him that Les needed a way to protect himself; he couldn't have David with him forever).

"Where are we going now?" Les asked a bit forlornly. He had looked up to Jack more than anyone.

David exchanged a look with Spot.

"I don't know Les." He said. "I really don't know.


	8. By the Way

**By the Way…**

_Modern Day_

"Hey Jack?"

"Yeah Davey?" 

"I need to tell you something."

"Sure, what?"

"God, I can't even get the words out. It's like they're all jumbled together."

"Everything alright Dave?"

"Yes. No. I mean yes, but maybe no."

"Davey…"

"Jack, I'm gay."

"…"

"Jack?"

"Oh."

"Is that a good 'oh' or a bad 'oh.'"

"It's just 'oh.' Jesus Davey give me a minute to think."

"If you want me to go."

"No! I mean. It's not that I care that you're gay or anything it's just a surprise."

"Really?" 

"Yeah I mean, you're still my best friend."

"Thanks Jack."

"So while you have me here, are there any other bomb shells you wanna drop?"

"Well since you mention it… You know Sean Conlon?"

"Spot?"

"Yeah."

"Are you guys…?"

"Yeah."

"Oh god, Dave…"


	9. Innocent Questions and Sleepless Nights

**Innocent Questions and Sleepless Nights**

_Modern Day_

One thing that they didn't tell you about college, Spot Conlon learned, is that while living in the dorms, you would become painfully aware of all your roommate's habits. Spot had lived with his roommate David for nearly seven months, and he found his habits absolutely fascinating.

For example, David ordered all of his books in alphabetical order. His desk was always in perfect condition. His bed was always made, and altogether, David's side of the room looked like nobody lived there. David always had a six-pack of Diet Coke in their mini fridge. He never ate candy with nuts in it, not because he was allergic, but because he just didn't like the taste. He ate his pizza backwards, crust first. He had sarcastic commentary on everything, but never said any of it loud enough for anyone but the person sitting closest to him to hear.

But the one thing that fascinated Spot the most was that David didn't sleep. Well that wasn't entirely true. David slept, but his sleep schedule was methodically planned out.

For the first two months of school, Spot just assumed David was an insomniac. The other boy spent every night awake in front of his laptop, never catching more than an hour or two of sleep per night (his grades didn't seem to suffer for it, Spot noticed in jealousy). But then suddenly it stopped. For two months after that, David slept normally like everybody else.

The pattern went on. Every two months, David would go on bouts where he didn't sleep. And Spot for the life of him couldn't figure out why. As the semester went on and David and Spot became closer (if not friends, than at least acquaintances) Spot finally got the courage to ask.

He brought up the subject casually.

"So Davey." Spot said. "Why don't you sleep?"

The other boy looked up from the essay he was typing and frowned.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." He said, and went back to furiously typing.

"I was just curious." Spot said with a shrug.

"Whatever," David said not looking up from his laptop.

"I just think it's strange is all. Not to mention you pounding on your keyboard all night keeps me up."

David looked up and glared.

"Well I'm so sorry for bothering you Spot."

"No bother. Just interesting."

The boys went back to their quiet activities, resuming the normal peace of the room.

"It's my brother." David said after a while.

"Hm?" Spot said looking up from his history book.

"Why I don't sleep." David said. "It's my brother, Les. He's ten."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So why are you chatting up your brother so late at night." Spot asked.

"Les is sick. He has cancer. Some type of leukemia."

Spot paused unsure of what to say next.

"Wow. Sorry. I didn't know." Spot said awkwardly.

"It's fine. He's had it for years. Since he was three. Recently the chemo stopped working, so he and my parents are in Spain trying this new experimental type of chemo. I used to sit with him during the treatments, but now I'm here and he's across the country, so on the nights he has chemo I stay up to chat with him online." David told him. "That's why I don't sleep."

"Oh." Spot said. "Sorry I asked."

"Don't be. It's not some big secret or anything. And I figured you were bound to notice sometime."

Spot nodded. He wanted to say something else but David had already gone back to his essay. They went back to their silence in peace. After a couple hours Spot rubbed his eyes and announced that he would be turning in for the night.

"Goodnight Spot." 

"Night Dave." Spot answered. And then he said a little more quietly: "You're a good guy David."


	10. Not As Planned

**Not As Planned**

_Modern Day_

"So this is it."

"Yup."

"This is the big surprise."

"Mhm."

"Spot… this is an empty warehouse."

"I know."

"This isn't a surprise. This is an empty warehouse. It's a trespassing charge at best."

"Aw come on, I was trying to do something nice!"

"By getting me arrested for trespassing?"

"No one's getting arrested. And we're not trespassing! I work here."

"What happened to that shipping company you were working for?"

"This is it! Or rather it will be it. We're moving our headquarters and I got put in charge of making sure that the new warehouse is in tip top shape."

"And you decided it would be a good date for our six month anniversary."

"Yup."

"Remind me why I'm with you."

"Because I do this."

"Oh god, what are you doing?"

"Unbuttoning your pants, what does it look like?"

"Spot!"

"What it's not like we've never done this before."

"We're in public!"

"No one's here."

"Someone could be here! Besides you shouldn't abuse your responsibilities."

"Great, fucking great. I date the one guy in all of New York who not only won't put out, but lectures me about it too."

"Shut up, Spot. It's not like we've never had sex."

"I just thought it'd be nice and spontaneous. Sorry for fucking up."

"You didn't fuck up… you just… I don't want to have sex in a warehouse is all. It's not exactly on my list of things to do."

"Not even when I do this?"

"Oh god! Spot…"

"Come on. You can't not like that."

"It's not… I don't… Please do that again…. Oh god!"

"So I take it you're rethinking the 'no-sex-in-an-empty-warehouse' policy?"

"Yeah I think I could reconsider."


End file.
